“Nights I turn to you to hold me
but you are not there.
Am I alone?”
To those who ask me, what is in this question, I would say – it is a slice of life, a tattoo of truth inked painfully deep, bookmarked with a fragrant dried red rose – a “once upon a time” reality.
Well, to me this is pristine poetry, naked n honest – written by 𝑵𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒍 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆, 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝑮𝒍𝒖̈𝒄𝒌.
What attracted me to Glück first was the title of her poem – yes, title (even before the verses) – The Wild Iris - the Pulitzer Prize winner of 1993. I could not get hold of a copy of the book as such – which according to reviews was a collection of beautiful poems that bring in natural, human, and spiritual realms knotted on the themes of time and mortality. But I read the poem – because the title lured me and the simplicity of the poem and the line “...whatever/ returns from oblivion/ returns to find a voice” loomed and lingered for a while.
Then on occasionally I read Glück as her name flashed on news headlines or otherwise. Ever so simple, she painted emotions drenched in hues in words – “The soul is silent. If it speaks at all it speaks in dreams.” - and honestly, such writings helped me retain faith in straightforwardness in poetry.
When Glück won the Nobel Prize for Literature, I had this sudden urge to read her more – and since last night – deep into her lines, I hear a violin note somewhere in the woods in my thoughts…
In the poem titled “THE RED POPPY” she writes my mind…
“The great thing
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
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